Heart of Gold
by PerfectlyWeird333
Summary: Mr. Gold pulls strings to free Belle from the psychiatric ward on the condition that she receive regular counseling and be provided a caretaker. Mr. Gold offers to keep her in his home. Gold/Belle
1. Prologue

**Heart of Gold**

**Summary: **Mr. Gold pulls strings to free Belle from the psychiatric ward on the condition that she receive regular counseling and be provided a caretaker. Mr. Gold offers to keep her in his home. Gold/Belle

**Disclosure:** Once Upon a Time and its characters belong to ABC, the plot I have created belongs to me as well any additional characters.

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><p>"<em>If people are supposed to be together, they find a way." – Mary Margaret<em>

**Prologue**

"I'm going to need to ask you for that favor, Miss Swan."

Emma sat back in her chair at the sheriff's desk and steeled herself, "Alright, what is it?"

Gold dropped a file on her desk. "A woman named Rose Marie French is being held in a psych ward here in Storybrooke. I need you to do an investigation."

He was met with a questionable look, "How did you get ahold of this?"

"I was inspired to do a bit of research on Mo French when I acquired it, I'm afraid I cannot say from whom."

Emma furrowed her brows as she thumbed through the papers, "Huh, I didn't know Mr. French had a daughter."

"Neither do most people. He disowned her and placed her in a psychiatric unit, technically making her ward of the state. I have reason to believe she was unjustly placed there and demand an investigation. More than that, I want her free, Miss Swan." There was a tenseness to his words, he was clearly holding back anger.

"Woah, hold on a second. I'll do what I can, but I can't guarantee her freedom."

"Oh, you will do everything you can. We had an agreement, if you can remember."

"Yes, I know, but you can't expect me to perform miracles."

"I doubt you'll need to. I will, of course, be behind you throughout the process. I'm sure you'll be quite surprised how many strings can be pulled if you know where to look."

"Knowing you? I won't be."

Gold smirked and tapped his cane against the ground, "I have a feeling Regina is involved."

"I'm not surprised by that either. What would her motive be though?"

"Regina doesn't need much of a motive to make people miserable."

Emma gave a dry laugh, "I'll give you that one." She flipped through the papers and stopped. "You know, I think the better question is, what is your motive?"

"Ah," he said, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Swan was relentlessly nosy, he would have to give her something. "Let's just say I knew her at one point."

Emma gave him a look and sighed. She thought for a second to question him further, but decided against it. She could tell she wasn't going to get much else out of him. Not right now at least. She sat back in her seat. "You know I need a reason to warrant a search, right?"

"Reasons are pretty easy to come by. Say, you happen to hear from an anonymous source that she was being mistreated."

"And I'm guessing that 'anonymous source' is you?"

"No, but the janitor agrees full heartedly. But we can't say that of course, not if we want to protect our source."

Emma gave a suspicious glance, "So… the janitor did say something? Or are you bribing him?"

Gold's eyes crinkled in a knowing fashion. "We can count on his testimony, if necessary." He pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his jacket and handed it to her. "These are the points on which the investigation is taking place. Complaints, if you will. While you're there, I want you to interrogate everyone. Does she get exercise? Go outside? Have regular therapy sessions? Human contact? Is she on any medications? Take a look at her file, under what pretenses is she insane? Gather as much information as you can."

Emma took a deep breath as she processed the notes on the page. She didn't want to say it, but she had to ask. "And what if, by some chance, she is actually crazy?"

"I am certain you will find that she is not. Find a way to talk to her, that's the key. It is likely her supervisors will lie to you. I'm sure you know I'm not the only one with good connections around here."

Emma rested her head on her hand and rubbed her temples. "Alright, fine. I'll have a search warrant on the place tomorrow, I'll see what I can dig up."

* * *

><p>AN: Alright, so this first chapter is a little short, but intentionally. While I want the story to focus mostly on how things pan out after she is released, I'm going to spend the first handful of chapters on the investigation and trial. I just feel like it's necessary to give some background. I've been kind of on the fence about just how much background to give though. I also figured Rose was an appropriate name. ;) Let me know what you think! Suggestions are much appreciated!


	2. The Other Side of Exit

**The Other Side of Exit**

"I'm sorry, but I'm actually not authorized to go down there."

"But you're a doctor."

"A doctor, but not a psychiatrist," Dr. Whale looked around a moment and ushered Emma into an empty room, "Look, not a lot of people know about that sector of the building, and intentionally. We were told that it was in the best interest of the patients if attention wasn't drawn to them."

"Do _you_ believe that?"

Dr. Whale sighed and scratched his head, "What I believe is that we should really get a new building for them, but that doesn't appear to be in the city budget. I do know that some of my patients would be a bit bothered if they knew they were being housed in the same building as 'crazy' people."

"So who _is_ authorized to go down there?"

"Dr. Huffman is the overseeing psychiatrist. He goes in regularly to monitor the patients' progress, but he isn't here all the time. We do have a full-time nurse and a handful of other authorized personnel."

Emma nodded, "So, could I just go down there on my own?"

"Sure, I'll call the nurse to let you in," he opened the door and lead her into the main area, "the door is disguised as an exit right over there."

Emma gave a humorous huff. She could understand discretion, but a need for a disguise? "Thanks."

Dr. Whale ducked into the office for a moment and Emma went to stand by the "exit" door. She looked around the hospital, things seemed pretty quiet. It was a good thing she didn't bust in during an emergency.

After a short moment, Dr. Whale approached her. "She said she'd be up in a few minutes, she's a bit busy at the moment."

"Alright, thanks. I'll just take a seat."

Emma fiddled with the warrant in her hands as she waited. This was turning out to be much less dramatic than she imagined. She chuckled to herself as she got a sudden mental imagine of her kicking down a door. Emma Swan: Crime Destroyer.

Ten minutes passed before the exit door opened. A nurse in a very costume-like uniform stepped out to look around. Emma got up from her seat and followed her down the cold, cement steps.

"Hello, sorry for the wait, I'm Crystal. Dr. Whale told me you were here about an investigation?"

"Yeah, I received some complaints from an anonymous employee here, they believe one of your patients, Rose Marie French, is being mistreated."

"Oh my, well, we'll have to put that to rest, won't we?"

"If I can find substantial evidence. I'm going to need access to things that are probably classified, though. And I'm going to need to speak with the patient."

"Ah," Crystal sat at her desk, tucking a piece of her well-sculpted hair behind her ear. "We'll see what we can do for you."

Crystal scooted back her chair to rummage through some files when Emma heard the footsteps behind her. The all-telling sound of her heels. She could sense who was coming before she even spoke.

"Sheriff Swan, what are you doing?" Regina asked, clearly controlling her anger.

"I think the better question is, what are you doing? You aren't exactly hospital personnel."

"Actually, as the mayor I have the right to know what's going on in this sector. You, on the other hand, aren't authorized to be down here."

"Actually, I am," she held up the search warrant, "I'm doing an investigation."

Regina scoffed, "An investigation of _what_?"

"I got a complaint from an anonymous employee that one of the patients was being mistreated."

"Oh? Who might this patient be?"

"Rose Marie French."

Regina gave a controlled sigh, "I can assure you, Sheriff Swan, that all of our patients are being given the utmost care."

"Great, then I'm sure you won't mind if I take a look around."

"Sheriff Swan, I really don't think this is necessary."

"I do. It's my job to protect people."

Regina was not amused, "Right, then explain to me what these 'anonymous complaints' are about?"

"I was told that this patient wasn't ever being let outside, rarely gets exercise, and is only visited once a week by the psychiatrist. She hardly has any other human contact other than to receive meals and medications, which, by this account, aren't distributed properly. The informant also said they don't believe she's crazy, and that she's being held here unjustly."

"They 'don't believe she's crazy'. Well! That proves everything, doesn't it?"

"It doesn't matter, if I hear something fishy it's my job to investigate."

"Right. Well, let's get this over with, then. Why don't we start with a tour? Sorry for the commotion, Crystal."

Crystal sent an oddly informed look her way, like they knew something Emma didn't. "It's not a problem, I'm sure this won't take much time." The woman seemed eerily collected.

Crystal lead them down the hall, "These are a few of the patient rooms, a number of them are vacant, of course. At the end of the hallway you'll find a general medical room used for regular examinations and another room used to store medicine and other supplies."

The drab, cement walls were hardly comforting. The whole facility was quite literally a basement of a place. So sterile and cold. To Emma, the thought of being a patient here would be enough to _make_ her crazy. "Have you ever thought of maybe doing a little redecorating down here? I'm sure it would improve the patients' morale."

Regina rolled her eyes, "Sheriff, interior design is hardly priority in the city budget."

"Building a giant playground seemed to fit nicely into the city budget."

They turned the corner, "Here are a few rooms we've reserved for patients getting exercise," said Crystal, "many of our patients are prone to self-inflicted injury, so it is necessary that we refrain from using equipment in which they can cause themselves harm."

Emma stepped inside one of the well-padded rooms. In the corner there was a single, well-used foam ball. On the wall there hung a basketball hoop with the net missing. "This is it?"

"Oh no, we keep a variety of foam sporting equipment in the recreation closet."

Emma then toured the closet, and the shower facilities, the bathroom facilities, one of the cells, and a small kitchen. The whole place was not very big.

"We have only a handful of patients down here, so we get the majority of our food from the hospital kitchen upstairs."

"How often do they eat?"

"Three meals a day, and other things if by special request."

Emma jotted this down in her notebook. "What's a typical day like for them?"

"Breakfast is served at 9AM in their rooms, along with their medicine, and each of them are escorted to the shower, one at a time. The patients then rotate the exercise rooms, our staff play games with them and let them do whatever they'd like at that time. A good portion of their day is spent in their cells, we allow most patients to read books if they like, only soft cover. Of course lunch and dinner is given at appropriate times, and Dr. Huffman comes to see each of them twice a week and we help to monitor their progress. He's the overseeing psychiatrist."

Emma added his name to the notebook, she was going to have to do some research.

Regina folded her arms. "Is there anything else you'd like to see, Sheriff?"

"I need to take a look at her file."

"I'm afraid that's confidential."

"This is an investigation, you would be withholding evidence."

Crystal and Regina looked at each other.

"Do you want me to get the court involved? I will. If I spread this story all over the news I bet it won't just me be wanting an investigation."

Regina's look was deadly. "Fine, but that file is not to leave this floor."

"Works for me."

Crystal went and got the file, leaving Emma and Regina to glare at each other.

"I really don't see any reason why you need to be here," said Emma, "I don't need a babysitter."

"You don't?"

"I mean, if you want to spend your evening watching me read a file, go ahead."

Regina gave a small, patronizing chuckle, "Believe me, I have better things to do than watch you waste your time."

Emma smiled curtly, "Right."

Crystal handed Emma the file, "I'd like to ask that you stay by my desk or in my sight while you read, just procedure, of course."

Regina looked displeased as she passed the desk to leave, "Sorry again, Crystal, I do hope this isn't too much trouble," she glanced toward Emma, "I'm sure this won't go on much longer."

Emma rolled her eyes and flipped open the file. If she ever needed a motive to prove Gold right, it was clicking its heels up the cold, stone steps.

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><p><strong>AN:** Alright, so this chapter was a bit info-packed, but it was necessary for the flow of the story. Details on the file and an interview with Rose coming soon!


	3. A Visitor

**A Visitor**

It was late in the evening when Emma entered the dimly lit pawn shop, the bells jingling behind her as she shut the door. The owner was nowhere to be seen amongst the clutter.

"Gold?" She didn't know why she still called out for him, she never got an answer.

Emma ducked through the curtain to the back of the shop. Mr. Gold looked up at her from a mess of paperwork on his desk.

"I visited the psych ward today," she said, coming toward him, "It's a pretty exclusive place. Apparently the regular doctors at the hospital aren't even allowed access. They've gone so far as to disguise the entrance as an exit door with a keypad next to it."

"How subtle."

"I must have only been down there a minute before Regina showed up. You were right, there's something fishy going on between her and the nurse."

"Odd timing, don't you think?"

"I was wondering about that, I had to wait ten minutes before the nurse let me in because she was busy or something. I'm thinking she made a call."

"Oh, I wouldn't doubt that."

"They gave me a tour of the place, Regina followed the entire time, if you can imagine. The facilities are lacking a bit, and the place looks like a glorified basement."

Gold's expression went grim. He put down the pen. "Did you talk to her?"

"Not yet, but I did check out her file."

"Let me see it."

"It's not allowed to leave the building."

Gold frowned, "Tell me what you read."

Emma took a deep breath, trying her best to summarize. "According to the file she as admitted for attempted suicide and violence toward herself and her father as the result of delusions. It says that she still experiences regular hallucinations and has memory loss due to possible trauma before she was admitted. They speculate the may have multiple personality disorder to explain her loss of memory before her admittance. There are also a few other documented non-delusional outbursts. Her therapy sessions seem to be making little progress."

Gold was clearly upset. He pinched the top of his nose as he processed her words a moment. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "When will you speak with her?"

"I plan to get an interview with her tomorrow, which I'll record. I've already warned them about it, and if they refuse, I've made them aware of the consequences. I'm pretty sure the last thing they want is their little secret to be blown up in the news."

Gold gave a smirk, "I'm fairly certain that if things go our way, it will only be a matter of time."

* * *

><p>At the end of the hallway in room number twelve, there sits a girl.<p>

Isolated, Rose could not remember the last time she went outside, or spoke to someone she could call a friend. She had grown accustom to the sound of silence, the occasional murmuring in the hallway when another patient left their cell or had a session. Sometimes she would press her ear to the wall and see if she could hear them, but the padded walls were very thick. Sometimes she would hear screaming, yelling, crying. Those sounds made it through just fine. She lay down on the black, rubber mat that served as a bench in the daytime and her bed at night and stared blankly at the ceiling. Today was the same as any other.

Perhaps today she would invent another game to play with herself, or count the padded bricks on the walls again (as if they changed), or strain her eyes trying to discern what lay beyond the mesh of metal obstructing the green outdoors, obstructing freedom. Or if she was lucky, today she would be allowed a softcover book to read. History only, of course. Fiction was forbidden, for fear it would encourage delusions. How her eyes poured hungrily over every page, soaking up the text, committing every word to memory. She loved the way they smelled, old books. Sometimes she would close her eyes and press them to her face, and imagine she was in a giant library. The smell of old books could wash away the basement smell, the smell that the padded walls had adopted, the faint smell of rubber and old wood. The smell of prison.

Echoes of voices in the hallway broke the silence, and Rose shifted her gaze toward the door. It was a game of hers to guess who they belonged to, the voices. She had become very good at it too, recognizing the different timbres, beat, influxes. She closed her eyes and concentrated as they got louder, more discernible. They were coming toward her. One of the voices had a cool, collected overtone; unmistakably Crystal. The other one was much more difficult.

She sat up, straining her ears to discern the owner. Marilynn? Heather? She was usually so good at this, how could she not tell? The voices suddenly became very loud, and she arrived at the only possible conclusion: this one was new.

They were outside her door now.

"I really don't see why that's necessary, you're lucky to get this far." _Crystal._

"I need it for evidence, it's policy." _Stranger._

Rose sat frozen as she heard the rattle of keys against the thick, metal door. Then it opened.

Crystal spoke first, "Sorry to disturb you, Rose, but I have someone with me who would like to speak with you."

The stranger was beautiful. The curls of her long, blonde hair bounced as she came toward her.

"Hi, I'm Emma," she held out a gentile hand, "it's nice to meet you."

Rose shook it tentatively, her eyes darting over her with bewilderment. A new face. She hadn't seen a new face in so long that it was hard at first to believe that Emma existed. It was as if she were some angel, some otherworldly creature that did not belong here. Angels did not visit hell. She struggled to form words but nothing came.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, are you ok with that?"

"Y-yes."

Emma turned to Crystal, "Sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. She may feel pressured to answer a certain way if you stay."

Crystal sighed and reluctantly left the room.

"I'm also going to need to record this conversation, will you be ok with that? This won't be shown to the personnel here, you don't need to worry."

"Yes, that's fine. I…I just don't understand, you need to ask me questions?"

Emma sighed. "It's been brought to my attention that I investigate your treatment here. I can tell you more once the interview is over, I just want to make sure that outside information doesn't effect the way you answer questions."

Rose nodded, "Alright." It was then that she noticed the Sheriff's badge on her belt loop.

Emma turned the recorder on. "So just for formality's sake, your name is Rose Marie French, correct?"

"Yes."

"And your meals, showers, exercise… everything is pretty regular? You're getting three square meals a day? Enough to drink?"

Rose nodded, "Sometimes I'll go a few days without a shower, but no more than that," she said quickly, clutching her head, "I.. I'm sorry, it's just… I've never had a visitor before. Much less someone recording an interview with me."

Emma's look softened, "It's ok, I understand this is pretty weird. If you want to take a break at any time just let me know."

"Ok, thank you."

She smiled softly, "Not a problem. So you haven't had a single visitor?"

"No. I've asked to see my father many times but they say he refuses to see me, that I frightened him with my outbursts, that I threatened him."

"And nobody else has been down here to visit you?"

"I really haven't seen a new face in a long time, and none of them have been called my visitors."

Emma gave a solemn nod and glanced at the next question in her notebook. "Tell me about Dr. Huffman. What are his sessions like?"

"He's sort of an odd man, always smoking a pipe. You can really smell it on him. He tried to light it once in here and I smacked it out of his hand. The walls in here absorb things so quickly, I hardly want them to smell like smoke. He stopped trying since then, but he's always fiddling with it during our sessions. Dr. Huffman has a very strange way of asking questions. It frustrates me, and he knows that, but he says he does to gauge my response and therefore learn more about me from a psychological standpoint. Sometimes he can be straightforward though, almost in a rude way. I can tell the staff understands him about as much as I do."

"When was the last time you went outside?"

"I… never. Not since I've been down here."

Emma's expression changed to one of deep concern. "They've _never_ let you outside? Why? What's their reason?"

"They tell me it's because they think I'll try to escape. I'll admit, I have expressed that I don't want to be here. "

"But… you have been experiencing regular hallucinations, right? That's what your file says at least."

Rose gave a frustrated sigh. "Yes, I have."

Emma frowned, nodding. As much as she hated to admit it, that really didn't help her case. She decided to move on. "So, tell me about what happened before your time here?"

"I don't remember."

"Nothing at all?"

"I remember my father, that's about it."

"So, what did the staff tell you happened?"

"They tell me that my father put me down here after I tried to kill myself. They said I became repeatedly violent and threatening, to him and myself. According to them I would become delusional, think I was being attacked, or that someone was out to get me. My father became a target," Rose paused for a moment, thinking through the distress, "Emma, you have to believe me, I don't remember anything. Not a single thing they've described. Every day, every single day of my existence in this cell I wrack my brain to try and remember, remember _something_, and… I can't."

"And what do they say about that? The fact that you can't remember."

"They say that sometimes when a person experiences trauma they block it out. They suggest that I might have invented another personality that does, but with all the therapy I've had, I haven't been able to access it. It makes me think that it doesn't exist."

"The personality, or the memory?"

"Neither."

Emma sat back for a moment, "So, you're saying that you don't think it ever happened in the first place? That they've been lying to you?"

"I… I mean… it's an incredibly severe accusation to make, for all I know I might actually be crazy, but…" she considered her words very carefully, "all I'm saying is, I can't remember a single thing. And I don't know how I lost my memory, I just… I remember every hallucination I've had since I was here, and I'm not suicidal. I mean, given my circumstances, I really should be, but that's not the kind of person I am. It just… doesn't seem right."

Emma sighed, frowning. She didn't know what to say.

"There is… one other thing. I've noticed a pattern when I hallucinate, it always happens after I've eaten something."

"Every time you eat?"

"No, I only hallucinate about once a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But every time I do, it's after I've eaten or drank something. And I always remember it."

Emma thought a moment and made a mental note to check the medicine inventory. "Alright, I think that's all I need to know for now."

Rose nodded, fiddling with the strands of her hair. Emma moved toward the recorder. "Wait, actually, I have a question for you."

She flipped the off switch. "Sure, go ahead."

"How did you find out about me?"

Emma paused a moment before speaking, glancing toward the door. She lowered her voice. "A man I know informed me about you. I don't think he even knew you were here until a few days ago."

Rose furrowed her eyebrows, "A-a man? What's his name? How does he know me?"

Emma sighed, she certainly didn't know the answer to the second question, and wasn't sure if she was even allowed to give away the first, but she had to give her something. Emma leaned in and spoke very softly. "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep this a secret. His name is Mr. Gold. I don't know how he knows you, but he doesn't think you belong here."

Rose seemed very confused, mouthing his name a few times. "I… I can't seem to recall this name."

"He owns a pawn shop here in town, if that helps. You don't think you know him?"

"I remember hardly anything before my life down here. If I did, I don't remember."

Emma sighed, "I don't know what to tell you."

"He didn't tell you anything else?"

"Only that he knew you at one point in time and that he doesn't believe you should be here."

"That's awfully vague."

"He's a pretty mysterious guy to everyone in Storybrooke. Just not the type to hand out information unless it's necessary, especially if it's personal."

Rose raised an eyebrow, "He didn't think_ this_ was necessary?"

"Not necessary for me to do my job. I owed him a pretty big favor."

Rose nodded, still trying to make sense of it.

"I've got to go now, but trust me when I say I'm doing everything in my power to help you," Emma collected her things and stood to leave.

"Wait, actually, there's one more thing."

Emma stopped and turned to face her.

"Will you talk to my father, for me? I know they say he doesn't want to see me, but maybe… you could try to convince him? I just want to know if what they're saying is true."

Emma nodded. "I definitely plan on paying him a visit."

"Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means."

Emma smiled and closed the door behind her, leaving Rose to a familiar solitude. She sat back against the padded wall, overcome with elation and bewilderment, like waking up from a strange and wonderful dream. Today she would not invent a new game, or count the padded bricks, or stare listlessly out of her tiny window.

Today her mind would swirl with thoughts of her mysterious benefactor and the angel he sent her. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Today was different. Today she had hope.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Bonus points if you can guess what fairy tale character I've assigned to Dr. Huffman. :)**


	4. Hide and Seek

**Hide and Seek**

"Two hot chocolates with whipped cream and cinnamon," Ruby placed them on either side of their usual center table at Granny's. Emma and Mary Margaret thanked her.

Emma picked up the hot mug and took a tentative sip, careful not to burn herself. The cool whipped cream blended with the hot chocolate in a perfect balance. She enjoyed her mornings here, the ambiance of stirring drinks and the calm, forest wallpaper. It was nice to have some peace at the start of the day. She'd been so busy with her case that she'd hardly gotten time to catch up with Mary Margaret, who was usually asleep by the time she got home.

"You and David still see each other here?"

Mary Margaret blushed, wiping the whipped cream from the side of her mouth, "We don't arrange times or anything, I mean, not on purpose. And we never actually sit together. We're both regulars here, I mean, I suppose it's only natural that we see each other," she took an innocent sip.

Emma smiled, "Of course, it's only natural."

Mary Margaret caught her teasing tone and smiled back at her. She set her mug down on the table and sighed. "Ugh, what am I doing?"

"You don't have a plan, I take it?"

"No, not a single clue about what to do with this... mess. It's just so complicated, I suppose my only 'plan' right now is to let him figure it out."

Emma nodded, "He is the one who's married."

Mary Margaret gave a single, dry chuckle and stirred her drink.

"How's Henry doing? Any more fairy tale theories?"

"He's been alright, I can tell he misses you. He hasn't told me any new theories if he has them though. I've been trying to help him find other creative outlets. The kids have been working on writing their own short stories in class. "

"That's good, I hope it helps."

They each took a sip. Emma sat back in her chair and relaxed.

"Did those flowers come yet?" she heard Granny ask Ruby from behind the counter.

"Nope, not yet."

"He's two days late, I wonder what's taking him."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows.

"What is it?" asked Mary Margaret.

Emma held up a finger, trying to listen in.

"Beats me," Ruby picked at some of the dying petals from the bouquet on the counter. "Have you called him?"

"I think I will, I haven't even seen Mo around since the middle of last week. He comes every Tuesday, it's not like him to be late."

"Yeah," Ruby pitched the flowers.

Emma turned to Mary Margaret, speaking softly. "You know that case I've been working on?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I think I'm going to have to pay Mr. French a visit sooner than I thought."

* * *

><p>Emma walked up the pathway to the small, grey, two story home. An old beagle was laying on the porch, it barked at her. She knelt down and extended a hand, showing she would do no harm. It was still wearing its leash. The old dog seemed to be pretty docile. It sniffed her hand and she scratched its ears. Emma didn't know that Mr. French had a dog, but the way it whined at the door as she knocked on it told her he did. There was no answer. The florist's van was parked in the driveway along with another small car. He must either be home or not have walked far. She knocked again, still no answer.<p>

Emma gave a defeated huff and walked back to her car to get the phone book. She set it on her hood and flipped through the pages. She wanted to exhaust every effort before breaking in. Emma whipped out her cell phone and dialed the number, still no avail. She sighed as she tossed the book back into her car. It was looking like she had no other choice, she had to make sure he was ok. If both of his cars were in the driveway it was likely he was still in the house.

Emma chuckled as took a rock to the brand new pane of glass that was installed after her last break in here. "Sorry again, Mr. French."

She opened the door and the dog ran inside, straight to its food bowl. The living room was relatively tidy, all lights were off. In the kitchen there were dishes in the sink that looked like they hadn't been done in days. She called out for him as she moved through the house, still getting no response. She searched the whole thing over and found nobody. Emma unhooked the dog from its leash and refilled its food and water bowls. She decided to keep it here for now and come back in the evening to let it out.

She got back into her car and pressed her head to the steering wheel. Her job was getting more complicated by the hour and her day wasn't nearly over.

* * *

><p>Emma walked up to the pharmacist's counter. "Hey, did you find anything?"<p>

"Not out of the ordinary. All of the medications match up to their descriptions."

"And none of them cause hallucinations?"

"Not a single one."

Emma gave a disappointed huff, "Well, thanks anyway. I guess I'll take them back now."

"Sure, just let me round them all up." Emma stepped into the office and the two of them loaded all the bottles back into the crate.

* * *

><p>Emma leaned back against the doorframe of the psych ward sporting closet, foam equipment strewn everywhere around her. Her search was beginning to seem hopeless, but they had to be keeping the meds somewhere. So far her day seemed to be compiled of nothing but fruitless searches. She'd searched everywhere; every empty cell, every cupboard in the bathrooms, Crystal's entire reception area, the medical rooms, the storage closets. Everywhere she could possibly think of.<p>

If only she had some way she could find out exactly what was in her system. _Wait a minute._ Emma smacked her hand against her forehead. Why didn't she think of it sooner? Swept away by her epiphany, she ran down the hallway and pulled open the small flap on the door of room number twelve. "Rose! Rose, wake up!"

Emma regretted shouting as the girl was startled awake. "It's ok, it's me, Emma. Sorry to scare you, but I need you to tell me something. When was the last time you had a hallucination?"

Rose squinted her eyes and rubbed her forehead, "I… two days ago I think."

"Thank you, that's all I need." Emma closed the flap and started back down the hall toward the reception desk. Two days. She hoped it wasn't too late. Crystal gave her a strange look as she approached, winded.

"I'm going to need a sample of her blood."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this chapter was a bit of a filler, but we're getting close to the heart of the matter! **

**For those of you who guessed Dr. Huffman was the Caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland, you were correct! **


	5. A Sight for Sore Eyes

**A Sight for Sore Eyes**

Rose had never seen so many new faces in so short a time. Everyone member of the staff had gotten a replacement until further notice. Emma said that she would need time to investigate how much each of them knew.

Dr. Hopper had kind eyes. She could hear the sympathy in his voice when he told her that her father had been missing for days, and when he told her that she was not, in fact, crazy.

She thought of all the wasted hours, and for what? How many days that could she have spent seeing the world and living her life were wasted in this cell? Where would she be now if her life had been her own? That thought alone was enough to_ drive_ her crazy. She would need therapy because of her treatment in therapy, ridiculous. Dr. Hopper explained that they were doing everything in their power to bring the people who'd held her captive to justice, but justice could never return to her what she'd lost. There were so many unanswered questions, the most basic being why she was kept here in the first place.

The only reason she was still here was because she had no place else to go. Life would be very different on the outside, she would need time to adjust and someone to help her.

Rose stood up on her bed and peered out the window. When once it seemed that she would never leave this prison, now her days were shortly numbered.

It was then that Dr. Hopper popped his head in the door.

"Hey, Rose. I have someone I'd like you to meet, if that's ok with you."

Rose nodded.

He stepped inside and held the door for her guest, a slender man dressed in a black suit jacket and purple paisley tie. "This is Mr. Gold."

Mr. Gold, the mysterious man who had given her freedom.

Her breathing stopped, and then was returned to her full force. Out of all the new faces she had seen in her time down here, in her whole life since she could remember, his was the first to look familiar. Somewhere, in a deep and distant corner of her mind, a memory struggled to be free.

_I know you._

He took a step toward her, "I was told you don't remember much."

The way the thin bridge of his nose slanted at such a distinct angle, the shape of his chin, the slenderness of his figure, the color of his eyes. She couldn't explain it, but she trusted him. She would have trusted him even if he'd said nothing at all.

She probably looked like a fool with her mouth hanging open. She shook her head, struggling to say something, "I have no solid memories, I'm afraid," she paused, searching his face again, "I was told you knew me."

He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper, "Yes."

Gripping the intricate handle of his cane, he looked as if he were struggling with something. Such a strange, pained expression, his eyes searching her as if committing every feature to memory. There, in those warm, brown eyes, was something so much more, like a mystery to be uncovered.

He was nothing like she imagined, but then again, what did she imagine? Certainly not this. Nobody imagines their hero like this.

They stood there a moment, just staring at each other before he spoke again.

"You have been dealt a great injustice, and I understand that you are without a place to go. I would like to offer you a place to live while you adjust, if you'll have it."

This was it, her ticket out. She didn't need long to think, she trusted the man who set her free. Rose nodded, resolute. "Yes, I will."

He smiled slightly and breathed a soft sigh of relief.

Then, suddenly, he reached into the black, paper shopping bag that she'd failed to notice he was holding, "I… have something for you," out of the bag he pulled a folded bundle of light blue cotton. He handed it to her.

Rose unfolded it gently, holding the top of the dress in her hands so that the rest of it hung out in front of her. She was gleaming even before she noticed the details, the soft frilling on the ends of the quarter length sleeves, the silk ribbon around the waistline, the thin layer of material bordering the wide neckline.

"I figured it's about time you had a new outfit," he smirked, trying to make light of such an odd situation. "I have some shoes for you too, I do hope they fit."

Rose took a step toward him and looked him in the eyes, she was very close now. "This," she gestured toward the dress, "All of this, I… I can't begin to thank you for it."

He looked down at her, a softness in his eyes that rarely showed itself, "There's no need."

Rose smiled at him, blinking back tears as she admired the dress again.

"Here, why don't we leave you to get dressed, then you can come see your new home."

Her stomach dropped at the idea, after all this time, it was finally true, "Leave? You mean for good?"

"Absolutely, it's certainly been long enough."

She looked at Dr. Hopper for approval, he nodded.

"I… yes!" she squealed, unable to contain her excitement, "Yes, I'll get dressed."

Mr. Gold smiled and handed her the bag with the shoes before exiting with Dr. Hopper.

Breathing heavily, she raked her eyes over the dress again. Here, now, after all these years, it was finally time. She pressed the soft, cotton dress to her face. It smelled so new and clean. So different. Giddy with excitement, she whipped off her hospital gown and slid the dress on. She ran her hands down the front of it and spun around like a little girl. She was thankful she was alone, she must have looked utterly foolish. Finally, she reached into the shopping bag and pulled out a pair of silver flats. They fit so perfectly, she wondered how Mr. Gold could possibly know her shoe size. Perhaps he asked the hospital?

Rose smoothed down her hair and took a look at herself again as best she could. She wished she had a mirror, but chances were that she would find one very soon where she was going. _I'm going_. She placed her hand on the door knob. She would be opening her own doors now. Rose took a deep breath and turned the handle.

Dr. Hopper and Mr. Gold were waiting for her on the other side.

Mr. Gold smiled softly, "The dress looks lovely on you."

She gleamed, "Thank you!" Come to think of it, Rose couldn't remember the last time she'd received a real compliment.

"All ready to go?" asked Dr. Hopper.

"I am."

Mr. Gold took the shopping bag and tossed it in a nearby trashcan.

"Onward and upward then." Dr. Hopper grabbed his umbrella and led them up to the main floor.

She was aware there was a hospital above her, but she'd never actually seen it. She stopped for a second to look around, to take in all of the wondrous happenings around her. So much light coming through the windows, everything looked so clean and professional. Such a difference from the basement where she stayed.

Rose stopped again when they got to the door. There it was. Through the glass she could see everything, the green grass, the bushes lining the walkway, the sun reflecting on the silver car parked on the street, the trees, the sky. It was a beautiful day, and now there was no obstruction. No metal mesh to see beyond, no bars to hold her back. Her heart raced as placed her hands on the cold, metal bar. All it needed was a push. Ever since she could remember, this was what she craved. Now it could be hers. She would decide her own fate now. Rose took a deep breath and steadied her trembling hands. With one solid push, Rose opened the door and took her first step into freedom.

Fresh air. It hit her like a shock to the chest. She walked forward along the path, moving out from underneath the overhang of the building and looked up at the sky. There were clouds, _birds._ She could hear them in the trees, all around her there were sounds of life. The wind caught her hair and dress, pushing against her and filling her lungs with more of the sweet, fresh air.

She ran over to the grass and fell on her hands and knees, feeling the soft, cool grass in her hands. How she'd longed to touch it. Her chest felt tight, her head felt dizzy. She fell face first into the grass and sobbed, the euphoria of her freedom alerting her to the depravity of her state. She pressed her forehead into the earth, taking in the smell as her tears dampened the grass.

The two men ran to either side of her. Dr. Hopper turned to Mr. Gold, speaking quietly, "It isn't uncommon with cases like these for people to experience extreme sensory overload. There is a chance she could go into shock, we'll have to keep a close eye on her."

Rose rolled over on her back, trying to slow her breathing as tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Her dress was probably filthy now. Her hands were covered in dirt. She took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, the white, fluffy clouds floating above her. The sun beamed down and warmed her skin, all of her senses were alive and awake. She turned her head to Mr. Gold. His expression was pained and compassionate as he looked down at her. The light from the sun behind him made his hair glow, forming a sort of halo.

Dr. Hopper leaned in, speaking softly, "Rose, are you alright?"

She smiled with her eyes and took another deep breath, "I think… I'd like to go… for a walk."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I was originally planning on writing at least one more chapter on the case, but it honestly made the most sense just to jump here. I realized that a lot of what happened since the last chapter could be easily explained in a few sentences. I also thought it would be interesting to explore their first meeting if Rose was completely conscious and in her right senses. I hope I made it believable enough and not out of character. Let me know what you think!**


	6. Home at Last

**Home at Last**

Rose couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a car. After walking around for a while they decided it would be best to take the car home for the sake of Mr. Gold's leg. She certainly couldn't complain, everything that had happened in the past hour had been endlessly exciting to her. Walking down the sidewalk, touching the flowers, seeing all the different people pass by in their different clothes. She shook her head, how foolish she must seem to this man. He pulled up to the side of the street and parked the car.

Rose looked out the window, admiring the row of large houses "So which one of these is yours?"

He motioned to the coral colored Victorian home with pine green trim. "That one."

She couldn't help but giggle, it just looked so out of place next to all the other homes, and to belong to a man who seemed so reserved. The whimsy of it tickled her. "It's lovely!"

"Thank you," he said, getting out of the car.

She marveled at it as they approached, it was almost reminiscent of a gingerbread home, very large too. She wondered what he did with all the space. "So you live here all alone?"

"Not anymore, it would appear." A teasing smirk played on his features.

Rose returned the smile, blushing at silliness of her question. She had to wonder though. It seemed strange to purchase such a large house, though nice it was, solely for oneself. She wondered if he ever had a family of his own, a wife perhaps? But now did not seem like the time to ask. It suddenly occurred to her how little she knew about him. When she thought about it, the whole arrangement was a bit strange. Here she was, staying in a man's house who she barely even knew. It would be natural to feel uncomfortable, but for some reason she didn't feel that way. She had been so enchanted by her freedom that there hadn't been room for feelings of uncertainty. Should she be uncertain? It was a big step, moving in with a stranger.

It wasn't until they reached the front steps that she noticed the brightly colored window panes on the front door. For as strange as her situation was, it was the most wonderful strange she had ever experienced.

The jingle of keys brought her back to attention. She watched him as he unlocked the door, he held it open for her.

"After you."

She stepped inside and looked around, smiling widely. It was like stepping into wonderland. The hallway and living room were a similar coral color as the outside, all bordered with dark wood to match the floor. She waited for him to proceed. It wasn't until she looked back that she could truly appreciate the sun coming in through the colored windows behind them, making a pattern on the floor. He pointed out the living room and dining room. The intricate woodwork in the corners of the doorframes was reminiscent of spider webs. A wool, oriental rug sat in the middle under the elegant damask couch and chairs. He turned on the lights and it brought her attention to the large chandelier hanging above her. It was so much to take in, so many trinkets and antiques scattered about. In the back of the room sat a wooden statue of a carousel horse, and to the left of her, a cello and a harp. Everything was so ornate and authentic, if not also in need of repair. In the next room she noticed the top hinges broken off of one of the cabinets, the door hanging on by the bottom. There were also a number of empty picture frames scattered about.

"You have a beautiful home," she said at last, "There are just so many things! How did you acquire all of this?"

"Just one of the perks of being a pawn broker, I suppose."

She nodded. He must have gotten very good business to be able to afford something on this scale. Either that or he must have done something else on the side. "Did you have any other jobs before that?"

"I was a lawyer before this, I'm also currently a landlord. That's where I make most of my money, owning a pawnshop is more of a hobby really."

"That's fascinating!"

Gold smiled at this, "We can visit my shop when we go into town."

"I would love that," she said, turning to inspect a small, porcelain statue.

"I can show you the rest of the house, if you'd like."

Rose smiled, "I would love that too."

* * *

><p>There were so many rooms, she felt like she would need a map to find everything again. They had now made their way upstairs. Mr. Gold casually pointed out his room and the steps leading up to the third floor. "There are a few other rooms and a balcony up there, I'll show you that in a minute. Right now I have something else I'd like to show you."<p>

She followed him down the hall until they reached the third door, he turned the handle. "Your room."

Rose could do nothing but smile as she marveled at the place laid out before her, her very own room. She took a mental inventory.

Cream wallpaper decorated with green vines climbed the walls. To the left, a dark, wooden dresser that looked well-used. Across from the dresser, a queen bed quilted in pastel yellows, blues, greens, and pinks. There were boxes of things in the corner and various antiques placed around the room. A tall, cream colored mirror with pink, delicate roses painted in the corners.

She ran her hand across the textured quilt, feeling the along edges where the seams met. Mr. Gold remained like a statue by the door as she looked around.

"Sorry about the clutter, I mainly used this room for storage. I haven't had time to clear everything out yet," he said, "It could certainly use some redecorating, feel free to do with it what you please."

Rose laughed, "I think you're forgetting what I'm used to."

He smirked at her, she could sense twinge of remorse in his eyes.

But really, what most enchanted her about this room were the large, hinged windows. She approached them in wonder and pulled back the lace curtains to reveal the chipped, cream painted frame.

"Mind if I open them?"

"Be my guest."

The hinges creaked as she pulled the handles toward her, opening the windows like doors to the world outside. Rose took a deep breath of fresh air and marveled at the acres that stretched out before her, everything so clear and tangible, like the world was inviting her to experience it. "You can see everything from here," she said quietly.

She heard his cane tap the hardwood floor as he approached her, "Yes, I've always been fond of this room myself, particularly for the view." He stood beside her now, staring off into the sky.

For a moment, there was not a sound but the birds in the trees and the wind rustling through the leaves. She placed her hands on the windowsill, curling her fingers over the edge so that they touched the siding of the house. There were no bars here, not even a screen to hold her back. She leaned out of the window and looked down, the adrenaline of height filling her with a sudden rush of freedom. Mr. Gold, when he was certain she wouldn't see, stole a glance in her direction, softening his features as he watched her in her moment of bliss.

He shifted his gaze back toward the horizon as she began to turn her head. Rose leaned against the windowsill and looked at him this time, a curious expression playing on her features. Feeling her stare, he glanced in her direction, raising an eyebrow in an inquisitive manner. There was no answer. She held his gaze for a moment, her expression still curious and warm, as if she were now asking the question. What was it she wanted to know?

"I do have one last thing on this floor I'd like to show you," he said at last.

Her face lit up at this, "You do?"

"Yes, at the end of the hall, in fact. I have a feeling you may like it."

Rose left the window and followed him out into the hallway. On their way he pointed out the bathroom, closet, and other miscellaneous rooms that were apparently of too little importance to make full stops. Rose made a silent promise to herself that she would experience each one of them as soon as she got the chance.

"Here we are," he said finally, stopping at the door at the very end of the hall.

She recognized it as soon as he cracked it open, she could never mistake it. The smell of old books. The room she entered took her breath away. The ceiling must have been twenty feet high, the walls entirely lined with books save for the long, lone window that split the room in two. Rose beamed, blinking back tears. It even had a ladder that swung around. In the back by the window sat a red, leather chair and a small coffee table made of dark wood to match the shelves.

"I hoped you would like this one," she heard Gold say softly from beside her.

Rose chuckled, wiping a tear before it could escape. She took a few steps forward, still drinking it in. The gold lettering on the spines caught her eye as they sparkled in the sunlight. There were books of all sizes, bindings, and ages. She could hardly believe it; a library, right down the hall.

Finally, she turned to him with every genuine intention, "I used to dream of a place like this," she said, "You have no idea what this means to me, what all of _this_," she swept her arm across the room, "means to me." His features softened, a tenderness in his eyes that was so rarely seen. She stepped closer to him. "I don't know what possessed you to rescue me, but I will never, as long as I live, be able to thank you enough."

"Your safety is enough," he said at last, "You don't owe me anything."

Then suddenly, before she could even think, her arms came around him in a tight embrace. He staggered backward, startled by the sudden gesture. She was already mid-hug before she considered that her impulsive behavior might be received as inappropriate, but it was too late now, she was committed. She could feel the tension in his body, the heaviness of his breathing from the shock. And then, slowly, she felt an arm around her back, timidly, as if surprised to find that she was real, as if any sudden movement would scare her away. She shifted her head so that it rested on his shoulder, as if trying to tell him that it was ok to hug back. She felt him exhale and awkwardly bring the arm that held his cane around her too. There was a slight pressure of it on her back as he finally and fully embraced her. They stood there for a moment in silence, each of them secretly basking in the warmth of a gesture not received since either could remember. She closed her eyes and smiled. As if everything she wanted to tell him could be expressed in a simple hug.

It was a start.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Super sorry for the wait guys, I went out of town for most of last week and had a ton of things that I needed to catch up on before working on this. I aim for posting at least once a week, so hopefully things will be less chaotic in the future. Once summer hits I will have much more time.**


	7. A Favor

**A Favor**

Mr. Gold scooped the final pancake out of the frying pan and set it on top of the stack on the table. He sat down at his usual spot at the round, oak table before serving himself one. It had been so long since he'd had to cook for someone. Luckily, Rose was easy to please. She was scarfing down blueberry pancakes like they were the greatest thing on Earth.

"This is so delicious!" she exclaimed for about the tenth time, picking up a crispy strip of bacon.

He smiled with his eyes and thanked her, helping himself to some fruit. They would no doubt be finishing off breakfast leftovers for the next few days.

"Where'd you learn to cook like this?" she asked with her mouth full.

He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of her, her terrible etiquette was endearing. "It's really not hard to prepare, I've been cooking for myself forever it seems like. Practice makes perfect I suppose."

She nodded, pouring some more syrup onto her pancakes.

He thought he'd never see it again; her curly hair and rosy cheeks, the way she squinted her eyes when she smiled. The shape of her jaw, the warm timbre of her laugh.

A few weeks ago he believed she was dead, and now she was joining him for breakfast. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and then some. Here she was, living in his home, and yet he couldn't help but feel clueless about what to do with her. The dog finally caught the car. What was his brilliant plan now? He was always in control, always two steps ahead. But this time there were no plans, no tricks up his sleeve. This time, the only thing he really could do was take things as they come. At least he got breakfast right.

She cleared her throat, finally slowing down. "Mr. Gold?"

He looked up at her, "Yes?"

"So," she picked idly at a stray blueberry on her plate, "I was wondering, and it's funny that I haven't asked before now, I guess all this newness has gotten the better of me, but… I can't remember anything from my life before. Emma mentioned you said you knew me and… well, I suppose I'm just curious. How did we come to know each other? Before this?"

Mr. Gold paused a moment, turning things over in his head. He knew this question would come. "You used to come by my pawn shop all the time. You had a thing for rare books." _I was fond of you… No. I admired your… No_. _Leave it._

"So we were sort of friends you'd say?"

"Yes, I would say so."

Rose nodded and picked at the blueberry again for a moment, "Do you know why my father locked me away? It's just hard to believe anything they've told me, you know, after what they did."

He frowned and shook his head, "I wish I knew. I was told you had killed yourself."

She froze, her eyes widening, "Killed myself? But why on Earth would he tell anyone that?"

"My guess is that he didn't want anyone to know where you really where. Perhaps he thought it was better if they thought you were dead, out of self-defense I imagine, not wanting to take the heat from the public about committing his own daughter."

"So nobody knew I was down there…"

"If I did I would have come for you a lot sooner. Another reason for him to lie, really. Anyone who knew you would have been outraged."

Rose looked as though she had lost whatever was left of her appetite, she set the fork down.

"Hey," he said softly, she turned to look at him. "You'll have your answers soon enough, they've only begun to investigate." She gave a solemn nod. "And in the meantime, there'll be plenty to do."

There was a soft smile now. "Mr. Gold?"

"Yes?"

"Am I much the same now? As I used to be?"

He looked at her a moment, her blue eyes probed him for an answer, always curious. "You are."

She nodded, satisfied. "Good."

Today she wore a mint green, ruffled top and flowing grey skirt. Admiring the color on her, he suddenly remembered that he had only purchased three or four outfits. She was going to run out soon. Something would have to be done about that.

"I'll tell you what, I'm going to go out and run a few errands. Feel free to explore, read a book, take a shower, whatever you like, and I'll be back in a couple of hours. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

><p>The Sheriff's office was surprisingly quiet that morning considering all that was going on. Emma was hunched over her desk, writing quickly. Stacks of files surrounded her on the floor. She didn't even notice Gold had come in until he spoke.<p>

"Good morning, Sheriff Swan."

"Can I help you?" she looked exhausted.

"Yes, I would actually like to ask you a favor."

She raised an eyebrow, "Busting an entire psych ward isn't enough?"

"You've done a wonderful job, Sheriff, but there is one more thing I'd like to ask of you, on Rose's behalf."

"I'm listening."

"As you can imagine, I only was only certain that she would be staying with me about a day before she was released. That being said, I didn't purchase a whole lot of clothing for her to start with because I thought it would be nice if she got a say in her wardrobe."

Emma gave him a strange look, not sure where this was going. He continued.

"Now let's be honest, I'm not exactly what one would call an ideal shopping companion for this sort of thing. It would be much more enjoyable for her to go with a peer. So I wanted to know if you, perhaps, would be interested. I'd pay for everything, of course."

Emma couldn't help but laugh. "Wait, so let me get this straight, you want me to take her shopping?"

"That's correct."

She shook her head in near disbelief, of all the favors to ask her. "Ok, but why me? Why not ask Ruby or someone more… I don't know, qualified?"

"She trusts you. I understand you've been busy, but I'm sure this would mean a lot to her."

Emma sat back in her chair, a smug grin forming on her face, "I don't know, Gold. Are you willing to make a deal with me?"

He smiled, "Of course."

"Good."

"So, what would you like on your end of the bargain, Sheriff?"

She paused for a second, savoring the moment. "Let's just say you'll owe me a favor."

He smiled, exposing his gold tooth. _Clever girl._ He appreciated her guts. He didn't prefer open ended favors when he was on the other side, but he didn't have much of a choice, and she knew it. "Very well then, Sheriff. How about this afternoon?"

She thought for a moment, glancing at the calendar on her desk, "Doesn't look like I'll be doing anything too important. Mostly just a lot of paperwork I need to catch up on."

"Excellent, then we have a deal."

"It appears we do."

* * *

><p>Rose stared down at herself, feeling the soft cotton of the magenta tee shirt snug against her body. She pivoted in front of the mirror to get another angle. She loved the way the jeans fit her, they were form fitting but had a comfortable stretch to them. She had not worn pants in so long that it felt strange. It was a good strange though, a strange that meant her life was finally changing. She unlatched the door and stepped outside the dressing room.<p>

"What about this outfit?"

Emma looked up from the clothing rack. "Oh, I like the dark jeans on you! It looks classy, you should definitely snag a few."

"Thanks! I'll go try on the next one."

Emma shifted idly through the racks for a few minutes and raised her eyebrows at a lacey, black racerback top. She found her size and added it to her own small pile in her arms. They'd already filled the back seat of her car with shopping bags, it's not like Gold would notice. Besides, she'd more than earned it.

"Funny seeing you here, Sheriff. I would imagine you'd be busy with all that's been going on."

The voice, like cold water, shocked her back to reality. Emma took a deep breath before looking Regina in the eyes. "I'm actually not here for me."

"Oh?"

She heard the latch on the dressing room behind her, Rose stepped out.

"Oh, look who it is!" chimed Regina, "Don't you look lovely."

"Oh, I… thank you," she sputtered.

"How is it in your new home? Is Mr. Gold treating you well?"

"Of course he is, I couldn't ask for better."

"Well, isn't that wonderful. He never struck me as the hospitable type, but what do I know?"

Rose just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"Anyway, I just stopped by to return something. You two ladies have a lovely day," she smiled curtly and stepped toward the counter.

Rose looked startled. Emma touched her shoulder and spoke softly. "That's cute, you should get it."

"Ok, I'll go change back into my regular clothes."

Emma stood outside the dressing room, keeping an eye on Regina as she waited. It wasn't long before she left. In a matter of minutes, Rose was standing beside her again.

"I saw her in the hospital from time to time," she said.

"Did she ever speak to you?"

"No, I'm not sure what she was doing down there."

"Well, we haven't found any evidence yet that says she knew about what happened to you, but I wouldn't trust her."

"I don't."

"Good. Regina has a reputation for being involved in shady things. What she says and does are two different things."

"Ready to check out?"

Rose turned to look at the pile of clothing behind her in the dressing room. "I think so."


End file.
